"Roll the carpet out!" Kurt demanded, straightening the white tie that was pressed snug against his gray suit. The staff that was following eagerly behind him rolled out the cream colored carpet as ordered, making sure that it was no less than perfectly straight.

"Await further instructions. Take a break, you've guys earned it." Kurt smiled, patting one of the sweaty staff members on the shoulder. The man nodded in response, taking off with the rest of the team to relax.

So far, the entire morning was going as planned. Kurt had arrived bright and early, entertaining himself with straightening the bouquets of various flowers, fixing set lists and different other things. Kurt was a slight perfectionist, okay he was a complete perfectionist, and he desired nothing more than to have this evening go smoothly. When the staff arrived, he busied them with attending to the other tasks needed to be completed by the evening. The front doors were set to open in approximately 7 hours, at 5PM. Blaine's race was scheduled to start in a couple of minutes, so Kurt was running towards the lobby to catch the race on television. Of course Kurt had every desire to sit in the stands, proudly boast Blaine from afar, but he couldn't score a ticket and this fundraiser needed a supervisor. Blaine had assured him it would be perfectly okay, he could congratulate him later. And that is exactly what Kurt had in mind.

"What channel are the olympics on?" Kurt asked one of the people behind the main lobby desk. She smiled up at him and informed him to switch the controls to channel 9.

Kurt plopped down comfortably on a couch in the corner, crossed his legs and flicked the TV to the correct channel. Kurt rolled his eyes at the boring tv announcers that continued their session of droning on about the Games and athletes, so he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He set a quick text to Blaine before he was about to appear at the water, simply reading "Courage."

Blaine sighed frustratingly, tugging off his over-ear headphones off his head. His coach was talking to him, and Blaine didn't want to hear any of it. He knew the drill, he knew all of his techniques, Blaine knew everything. And all he needed to get in the zone was his music, his hidden passion, and his pain in the ass coach refused to leave him be.

"I know!" Blaine yelled at the older man, walking straight out of the locker room and disappearing into the waiting area. He knew that he would get Hell for it later, especially if he didn't win. Blaine shook his hands out, trying to release the impending stress from his body. In the pocket of his USA tracksuit, he felt his phone vibrate. He pulled it out reluctantly, the counter on the top of the sliding door was ticking down towards zero. He smiled when he saw it was a one word text from Kurt, and he typed back a quick "Thank You." Courage, that is exactly what Blaine needed right now.

A stageman off to the right mouthed a "You're Up" as the doors slid open, revealing the familiar scent of chlorine and the eager crowd. He stepped out of the waiting area, through the doors and onto the deck. Flashing one of his best smiles, that failed to compete with the thousand sof camera flashes, he waved meekly and made his way to his lane, number eight. Being towards the end of the pool gave Blaine more confidence, it allowed him to keep focus and prevented him from being distracted by the competitive heat of the other athletes around him.

A few cameras swarmed closer towards him, and Blaine opted to ignore them. He noticed his coach and publicist along the far right side of his lane, smiling encouragement at him. Blaine smiled back, peeling off his tracksuit slowly. Inside of the jacket pockets, Blaine pulled out his swimcap and goggles. He smoothed down his ruffle of curls, slicking them back with some shapening gel. The cap went right onto his head, snug tight and soon the feeling went unnoticed because of it's familiarity. The race was set to begin soon, so Blaine stretched accordingly and stepped toward the diving blocks.

Blaine exahaled deeply, pulling his black goggles over his head. He adjusted them to fit his eyes perfectly, and made sure they didn't pull too hard on his skin. Deeming them perfectly, he stepped up to the diving board. He got down in position, and waited patiently for the gun to go off. At the sound of the gunshot, Blaine dived into the pool and swam for his life. On average this race was about a fourteen minute long back and forth motion. As boring as it was, this was Blaine's life. He had to live, breathe, and sleep swimming. So that's what he did. Blaine had no idea what position he was in as he kicked off the wall, flipping underwater and propelling himself towards the other side of the pool. Although he wouldn't care so much, he really just wanted a silver. Blaine just had to make his father proud of him.

Blaine kept up his repetitive cycles of kick, push, swim, his entire body working as one machine, propelling him across the water. Blaine knew that him or somebody was about to win, the race was heeding toward an end. It had been at least 10 minutes at the minimum, and the crowd was roaring above them. Though the thick tendency of the water blocked out most sound, he could hear the screams and clapping above. So Blaine went into overdrive, using his body to swim as fast as he possibly could. When Blaine peered above the water slightly, ready to push back off the wall he saw his Coach right above him, smiling eagerly.

That could only mean one thing.

Blaine Anderson had won the Olympic Gold Medal.

Kurt jumped up excitedly as soon as Blaine touched the platform, signalling that he had come in first place. Not only did he come in first, but he also beat the World Record. "Oh my gosh, yes!" Kurt screamed, latching onto Helen--who was also ecstatic next to him--in triumph. "He did it, he did it!"

For the most part, a lot of the people that had gathered into the large lobby were happy and congratulating Kurt. Except for the few British members in the area, simply murmuring a silent good job.

Kurt fixed his gaze back onto the television as the cameras focused on Blaine. Blaine looked absolutely clueless, but when he realized his accomplishment he started punching the air and smiling. Kurt watched in adoration along with the rest of the World as Blaine Anderson, olympic gold medalist, leaped out of the pool and ran around in happiness. Kurt could not have felt more proud at that very moment, and when the American flag was draped around Blaine's shoulders, Kurt teared up in joy.

Blaine was erupting in pride, shaking hands with the other athletes who congratulated him on his medal. Dozens of cameras were attacking him, and Blaine just smiled and answered a few questions for the impending interviewers who came up to him.

NBC, an American network, walked up to him and Blaine smiled into the camera. The woman with the mike congratulated him, and asked him about the race. Blaine smiled, "It was fantastic. This is fantastic! I truly had no idea if I was even ahead, I just kept swimming with the hope I'd come out in first. And now that I look at it, wow, it was so close! Major props to the rest of the swimmers. It was great."

"Thank you for your time, great race!" The woman said, patting his shoulder and disappearing back into the crowd.

When Blaine recieved his medal, he kissed it passionately with promises that it was over. Promises that his new life could begin, an omen to send Blaine on his new path. Blaine Anderson had never been so grateful in his entire life.

As soon as he could, he went back to his hotel room and called Kurt. He had a fundraiser to get to.